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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26806234">Smiley’s Rounds</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Brocol lerayt edek?; or, Trektober 2020 Challenge [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Trek: Deep Space Nine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Chief O’Brien Needs a Hug, Coffee, Existential Angst, Gen, Loneliness, Trektober 2020</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 08:22:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>560</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26806234</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>On the Denorios, Miles O’Brien’s mind is far too active. Perhaps he’s not really the type to be alone.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Trektober 2020: Oct. 1st<br/>Prompt: Mirror Universe</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mirror Miles O’Brien &amp; Mirror Jennifer Sisko</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Brocol lerayt edek?; or, Trektober 2020 Challenge [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1955005</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Trektober 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Smiley’s Rounds</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I’ve never attempted a 31-day challenge, but I am going to roll up my sleeves and try this one. I’m quite excited! :D</p>
<p>It should be noted, however, that I have only seen up through “The Warrior’s Way Parts 1 &amp; 2.” So, I will not be as knowledgeable as perhaps I should be before contributing to a work. I love DS9— so, I hope that will be enough to supplement what I lack in knowledge.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Computers were beginning to talk to him. </p>
<p>Miles scoffed at himself. At the very least, he was starting to recognize their language. There were even dialects, it seemed, between the subsystems. The interfaces of the <em>Denorios</em> were vastly different than the crude machinery of the Terok Nor mines. The only form of communication those old clunkers understood was that of blunt force. <em>Much like the dunderheads that designed them</em>, he thought.</p>
<p>The starship computer systems, though, were intuitive, elegant, and <em>smart</em>. And, he was convinced again, in little less than a few minutes, that they could talk in their own words. A tongue more nuanced than anything he’d heard people speak. Each had its own flair... </p>
<p>Or, maybe it was the coffee. Jennifer, Professor Sisko, often accused him of “caffeine intoxication.” The double-strong Jamaican blend, that his crewmates had introduced him to, stained his breath. In the confined space of the work vents under the <em>Denorios</em>’s impulse system, its density became nearly a bodily presence.</p>
<p>“In need of some companionship, Smiley?” He chided. “Shit, I’m tired.”</p>
<p>Sighing, he leaned back, resting his head on the curved metal behind him. The leftover coffee in his mug was cold, and he knew it would not offer him any comfort. He’d definitely drunk enough of it, anyway. “Wonder who’s still awake in this tub.” He muttered to himself.</p>
<p>As it turned out, no one. Well, no one whose company he wanted. Julian was on navigation, and, though they’d been chummy enough when the late captain had convinced Miles to join the rag-tag resistance, there was an underlying disagreement of ideologies. <em>Let’s put it that way</em>, he thought. Anyhow, their nights of playing cards were over.</p>
<p>He slogged through the corridors leading to the medbay, now a lab for Professor Sisko. Everything was silent and sober. He hated that; though he was a man of little personal excitement, there was something to be said for being alone <em>among people. </em>Surrounded by conversation, but not expected to take part, was a reassuring state of being.</p>
<p>Not for the first time, he wondered what the Miles of the Other Universe— Chief O’Brien— was doing at that moment. The Other Sisko had told him that he was a husband. A father. Hell, even <em>that</em> Sisko seemed genuinely friends with “Chief O’Brien” judging by the tone of respect he used.</p>
<p>The medbay/laboratory was in use. Miles paused by the door. Could be a crew member sleeping off indigestion under the eye of the nursing program. Or… <em>Ahh</em>, he thought,with a stab of loneliness, <em>may as well take my chances.</em></p>
<p>The door released and swished open. His chest eased when he saw who was there. Inside, a figure bowed over a workstation that displayed in-depth schematics, formulas, algorithms— as good as ancient sorcery to him— to them— to the Terran Resistance. This sorcery would deliver them to victory, he just knew. Although, what life after victory was — marriage? parenthood?— in all honesty, he couldn’t know. Couldn’t even guess.</p>
<p>Professor Sisko, Jennifer, deigned a distracted glance at him. Even with obvious strain, her mauve-rimmed eyes were possessing. <em>Talk about elegant and nuanced</em>, he thought, but let it go instantly. </p>
<p>“Awfully late, Smiley,” Jennifer remarked, then returned to her work.</p>
<p>Miles hummed and stepped closer to watch her calculations over her shoulder. “Oh, you know… Too much coffee.”</p>
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